


Moving On

by ginandironic



Category: Brokeback Mountain
Genre: Angst, M/M, movie-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginandironic/pseuds/ginandironic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Today will be a good damn day, he thought, watching himself in the mirror.</i> Jack/Ennis, yes, but also Jack/OC and the usual het associated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> This is movieverse. I love the short story, but I figure to keep it in the movieverse gives a better mental picture. I HATE THIS TITLE. GOD. Someone please tell me a better one before I choke. This is technically unfinished too, but I don't think you can tell so much. Written in 2006.

Used to be mornings Jack'd wake up real early, dawn just beginning to stripe with color, back when he was ranching or even herding sheep up on Brokeback. Used to be he'd make himself a cup and drink it still heavy-lidded, but now he's lucky if he wakes up in time to see Lureen still in her goddamn ridiculous curlers. Used to be he'd get up real early for real work, work that left him numb with cold and passed out at night, dreamless.

He don't think on that. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and let his feet touch rug. His morning ritual wasn't nothing, just a trip to the bathroom and then the closet. He picked some jeans and a blue checkered shirt and put it on. Shirt looked like it was made by someone who never seen a functional piece of plaid or ain't never seen a real cowboy. Damn shirt was stiff and fancied up with fringe and did near nothing to keep him warm.

He put on his nicest jacket over it and went into the kitchen. Sure enough, Lureen had already come and gone. He smelled her perfume left over in the air and distantly Jack could hear her answering phones and punching numbers and haggling up in the office. She'd left him a plate, though. He ate quick and went back into the bathroom to tidy up. His mustache needed a trim.

Today will be a good damn day, he thought, watching himself in the mirror.

\---

A good day meant he didn't wake up thinking on Ennis too hard. Usually he'd of had a dream and woken up sore and hard both, given himself a pull after making sure Lureen wasn't anywhere near to catch him. But on a good day he'd wake and his mind would wander over a picture Ennis' face like it wasn't nothing.

He had more to think about, and the less thinking spent on Ennis the better. Like today that farmer was gonna come in and look into a big purchase. Lureen was needed for the big stuff, for the paperwork and the haggling but she and Jack were proud to say he sealed the damn deal. He was a salesman. Probably the best smooth talker in all of Texas. At least the county.

When he was ready, Jack went into the office and kissed Lureen's smooth and powdered cheek good morning. She reached past him to flick ashes and nodded in greeting. "Those boys are comin by today to look at the new line of tractors." Her tone was warning, telling him to be good and ready to sell his ass off.

"Too right they are."

"Randall," she kept on, dragging her cigarette so hard it quivered and the cherry flared, "wants to know when y'all can head up to the cabin."

He shook his head. "What'd you say?"

"I didn't say nothin."

"Well, call em back! Tell em next week or somethin."

"You got more business here next week, Jack."

"I can make time to go on a fuckin break for a few days, can't I?"

She narrowed her eyes at his words but otherwise didn't react. Then she nodded. "Sure enough you can."

Damn right he could. He paid his dues. He worked for his goddamn respect and put up with her father and tried like hell to be better than both theirs to his son. You could only expect so much of a man.

\---

He did fish with Randall Monroe. They had that much in common. They drank coffee and sat back in plastic chairs by the lakeside and let their rods idle in the water. Jack was already hard, gone weeks without sex, knowing Randall was gonna fuck him. Every so often he'd watch Randall take a drink of the strong brew, made stronger with brandy, his throat working. His full beard was different, still something Jack wasn't used to. He didn't like what it did to his skin.

Ennis never took him in his mouth. Jack never expected it. But Ennis kissed real hard and deep, clutching his shirt, and Randall kissed slow and slack like he was drunk. Which he had to be, for the real sex. But Randall did take him in his mouth and goddamn if that wasn't good.

When it got dark and when Randall was drunk enough, they moved into the cabin. Jack nearly tripped over the ugly green chairs and climbed onto the cot, stomach down. His jeans were already undone. Randall creaked the floorboards as he made his way over them. Boots clunked to the floor, one after the other.

\--

END.


End file.
